


A Christmas Wish

by Supergeek21



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Magic?, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley and Anathema are friends, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Truth Spells, Wishes, christmas gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supergeek21/pseuds/Supergeek21
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are planning to spend Christmas together without any pretext for the first time ever, but when both beings wish for a way to confess their feelings to their best friend, their plans go a bit awry.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 83
Collections: Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20





	1. Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PinkPenguinParade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPenguinParade/gifts).



> Written for the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards Holiday Swap on Facebook. (Sorry it's late, but on the plus side, it's long!)
> 
> Prompts used for inspiration include: altered states/truth serums and their results, angst/hurt with a happy ending, Anathema and Crowley are friends, and domestic fluff.

_“Oh, the weather outside is frightful but the fire is so delightful, and since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…”_ the classic tune crooned from the television as the end credits began to roll on Crowley’s favorite Christmas movie.

The demon chuckled to himself and downed the last swig of his scotch before snapping the DVD player off and slumping back into his leather sofa.

This was his Christmas Eve tradition. Aziraphale went to midnight mass, Crowley watched Die Hard.[1] They had modified their routine a bit this year and Crowley had been quite pleased with the change. Before embarking on their separate annual ventures, Crowley had gone out to dinner with Aziraphale, a first for Christmas Eve, and they had plans to spend the next day together at the bookshop, something they had done before on certain years when Aziraphale hadn’t been busy with work.[2]

Crowley sighed and glanced across the room to the package neatly wrapped in red paper under his one concession to holiday decorating—a small potted evergreen adorned with shiny red and silver balls which was sitting on the edge of his desk. A smile quirked the corner of his mouth up at the memory of showing up at the bookshop for a drink earlier in the month and finding the thing already decorated and waiting for him.

_“I know Hell never approved celebrating the holidays, but I thought maybe this year you’d want to mix things up a bit,”_ the angel had said nervously. _“Besides, I know how you like plants.”_

He had looked so delightfully flustered— _so adorable_ —Crowley didn’t have the heart not to take it, especially when he’d even given him the perfect reason… it **would** make a nice addition to the plant room the rest of the year.

_How is he always so hard to resist?_ Crowley wondered as he got up and sauntered across the room to the window, looking out into the cold winter night.

Above the mostly empty streets, a few particularly bright stars shone through the foggy London air, joining the colorful array of Christmas lights glowing in the city’s windows. It looked so peaceful.

“All is calm, all is bright,” Crowley muttered, his mind drifting back to the angel who was probably singing carols right now surrounded by people who would never know they were witnessing part of the very story they were there to hear,[3] and once again his serpentine eyes drifted to the package beneath the small tree.

He’d spent weeks tracking down the misprinted Bible inside, a rare, illustrated version containing a translation error so that the story of the loaves and fishes was written as “loads of fishes” and implied Yeshua had indeed miracled up thousands of fish, presumably because they were in higher demand than the bread.[4] Aziraphale had been searching for one of the two surviving copies for decades and Crowley was quite proud of himself for finding it.[5] It was, if he did say so himself, a perfect gift for the angel… he just hoped it was enough. Enough to convey what he’d wanted to say for nearly 6,000 years.

Crowley slumped back against the window and let out a long breath, his cheek pressed up against the cold glass as he stared back out at the night sky. He knew what he wanted to say, he just didn’t know how to say it.

“For Somebody’s sssake,” Crowley hissed into the empty flat. “I dunno what I’m doing. I jus’ wish I knew what he was thinking… that he felt the same way…”

Outside the stars and the Christmas lights twinkled back at him and somewhere in the distance a church bell struck one. Crowley sighed again. Aziraphale would be heading back to the shop soon, he may as well get some sleep. Even if he didn’t work up the nerve to say anything tomorrow[6] he was still looking forward to spending Christmas Day with his angel.

\----------------------——-———————-

_“Sleep in Heavenly peace. Slee-eeep in Heavenly peace…”_

Aziraphale closed his eyes and listened to the voices of the humans swell softly around him as he absorbed the joy and love that permeated the air of the church. While he loved all human holidays, he usually avoided religious services. Midnight mass on Christmas Eve was his one exception. He loved the pageantry and the music, but most of all he loved taking in the atmosphere. Humans were, for the most part, inordinately happy and it did him good to see people embracing the day’s message of giving, and joy, and love for humanity. It was that message especially that had inspired him to keep this tradition up. He’d always felt it was some of upstairs’ greatest work. And during these past few years of constantly preparing for The End it had given him comfort that he was doing the right thing in subverting the Apocalypse. _God loves the humans after all!_ He told himself. _Surely, She couldn’t object to me loving them too and wishing to protect them!_ Tonight, as he breathed in the love all around him and the excitement radiating off the few children in attendance, he was surer than ever he’d done the right thing.

_And to think you almost didn’t go along with Crowley’s plan,_ a voice in his mind scolded him and a pang of guilt shot through him at the thought of the demon.

_Oh Crowley,_ he thought with a sigh. He had treated him quite badly over the years, hardly the way to treat your best friend, let alone the person you love most in the world! He was suddenly ashamed of himself, sitting here reveling in the love of humanity and the Almighty when he himself was too cowardly to tell the one being who meant the world to him how he felt.

_I wish I weren’t so afraid,_ he thought. _I wish I could find a way to tell him._

The song ended before Aziraphale could fully finish the thought and the priest stepped forward to deliver his closing blessing.

Crowley was still on Aziraphale’s mind as the angel stepped out of the church and began walking home to the bookshop as light snow flurries began to fall around him.

* * *

[1] A film Aziraphale had repeatedly shouted at him was NOT a Christmas movie… not that he had ever seen more than a trailer for it.

[2] Angels were usually in high demand at Christmas, though of course that wasn’t the case this year for Aziraphale. Yet another perk, Crowley thought, of being dubbed a traitor.

[3] Of course, Aziraphale **had** been there singing that night in Bethlehem, though he was the first to say his heart hadn’t really been in it as he’d been preoccupied trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the rooms he had tried to reserve at the local inn for the pregnant girl and her husband.

[4] It was quite silly, and Crowley personally wondered if it had truly been a mistake.

[5] Though he had, admittedly, had some help from Anathema. There were certain advantages he’d found to being friends with a wealthy witch whose family had held onto one of the rarest books in existence for 400 years.

[6] Just like he hadn’t every other day since the world had failed to end


	2. Christmas Day

Crowley arrived at the bookshop at exactly 11 a.m. on Christmas morning.[1] His mind was an inexplicable combination of nervousness and excitement even he couldn’t quite work out and he had spent the drive over berating himself for it.

_Nothing has changed!_ He told himself as he pulled up to the festively decorated shop and parked the Bentley in its customary, illegal parking spot. Still, he could not help but feel a little hopeful that Aziraphale had taken the initiative to ask him over for the holiday without any prompting. **That** was a first. Usually, Crowley had to give Aziraphale some incentive to thwart him or offer to help with one of his particularly detailed holiday miracles[2] in exchange for a favor to merit an invitation.

Not this year though! This year it had been all Aziraphale’s idea and Crowley was feeling quite pleased with that development as he stepped up to knock on the bookshop door.

Having given his usual courtesy knock, the demon went to let himself in when the shop door swung open wide and he was greeted with a smiley-er than usual Aziraphale.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale practically chirped, his grin somehow getting wider.

“Hiya Angel,” Crowley said, hoping he sounded cool. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Dear Boy! Do come in.”

Aziraphale stepped aside to let Crowley in and the demon startled at the feeling of his friend’s hand resting gently on his elbow.[3] “Why don’t you take off your sunglasses, Dear?”

“Ye-yeah, sure,” Crowley said, not sure at all if he wanted to expose himself that way, but so thrown by the sudden contact that he couldn’t find any reason to argue. “Have a nice night last night, Angel?” he asked, his voice pitching just a tiny bit higher, as he adjusted to the brighter light and tried to change the subject.

“Yes, quite,” Aziraphale answered as Crowley stepped back to set the angel’s present and a bottle of wine on the counter and slipped off his black wool coat. “The service was lovely. Strange thing though, I came home afterwards and actually drifted off to sleep for a while. I can’t recall the last time I did that!”

“You slept?” Crowley asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said with an odd look at him which caused the demon to instinctively avert his eyes. “Didn’t mean to, I just felt rather cold and I had just settled in with a book to get cozy and the next thing I knew it was morning… Just as well I suppose,” he added. “I was feeling rather lonely and it let me get to seeing you faster.”

Crowley’s head snapped up and he blinked slowly at the angel twice. That was far more open than Aziraphale usually was with his feelings!

“Well, I was looking forward to seeing you too,” Crowley said, cautiously optimistic. “Guess I got excited about actually exchanging presents.”

He chuckled trying not to reveal exactly how worked up he felt about finally being able to give Aziraphale a real gift.

“Yes well, that was part of it,” Aziraphale said with his own nervous laugh and Crowley saw his hand move to fidget with his ring a bit as they made their way to the festively decorated back room.

Crowley had helped Aziraphale put up the tree[4] several weeks ago but the room had grown progressively more Christmas-y as the holiday had drawn closer. Artificial evergreen garland hung along the top of the bookcases, each swath attached with a tartan bow, and the room glowed with the light of two dozen electric candles,[5] not including the nine in the Menorah sitting on the desk.[6]

The tree was adorned with glass and china baubles from Aziraphale’s various travels around the world, an assortment of bells, as well as a healthy number of candy canes.[7] Sprigs of holly peeked out from between various tomes and snuffboxes on the shelves, and one obviously homemade gingerbread house was sitting on the table next to a package wrapped neatly in gold paper, which Crowley couldn’t help but ogle with interest.

“Place looks great, Angel,” he said with an appreciative hum.

“Thank you, Dear,” Aziraphale answered. “I do rather enjoy the decorations. I just couldn’t put them all out too early or I might attract more customers.”

Crowley laughed and sprawled himself on the sofa as usual.

“You know that’s what **most** shop owners aim for, right Angel?”

Aziraphale huffed. “I would have thought you know me better than that by now. Although, I did sell one rather nice early edition of Dickens last week. Nothing he signed for me of course! But the boy seemed convinced it was the perfect gift for a young lady he is trying to woo. Apparently, she’s a literature student and he was so obviously smitten I just couldn’t say no…”

“You always have had a soft spot for young couples,” Crowley said with a shrug, tilting his head up to look at the starry patterns cast on the rotunda window by frost.

“Yes, well, it is a rather sweet idea, telling someone how you feel at the holidays,” Aziraphale said warmly.

Crowley’s stomach twinged at the irony and he looked back from the ceiling only to find Aziraphale sitting next to him on the couch, not even an arm’s length away, with a wide-eyed dreamy gaze locked firmly on him.

“Yep,” Crowley popped nervously, as Aziraphale blinked rapidly at him. “I s’pose it is… Are you alright, Angel? Something in your eye?”

Aziraphale seemed to be tilting in his seat as if he were falling slowly but surely into Crowley’s space.

“What? No. I’m fine, absolutely tickety-boo,” he answered, straightening up slightly, but doing so by scooting his lower half over closer towards Crowley, under where he’d been tipping, instead of just sitting up.[8]

Crowley gave him a cockeyed look. He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased Aziraphale was sitting so close or concerned by his odd behavior.

“Yeeeaaaah… alright,” he agreed, trying not to over think the situation. “So… what’s the plan for today then, Angel? I can smell something in the kitchen, did you have takeaway brought in or are you actually attempting to cook?”

“Ah, yes! That’ll be the goose,” Aziraphale said with a proud smile.

“The wot?”

“The goose. I thought it might be fun to make a full, traditional Christmas dinner. I’ve had them before of course, but I always wanted to try making it for myself. And I thought as long as we’re officially free to do as we please this year, we could enjoy it together.”

“You’re cooking all that food just for the two of us?” Crowley asked with an incredulous smirk.

“Well, I assumed there’d be leftovers,” Aziraphale said with a shrug. “I told some of the young people who pop in to chat from time to time they could stop by for lunch tomorrow. That ought to get rid of it.”

Crowley thought of the hoard of grad students and queer teens that seemed to frequent the bookshop without ever buying anything swarming what was sure to be the massive amount of food that would be left from today’s feast and laughed. He hoped the angel’s expectations of dinner turning out well would miraculously compensate for his lack of actual culinary skill.

“Well, that ought to be interesting,” the demon said with a chuckle. “Maybe I should miracle over my TV later. We could watch some old Christmas movies as an excuse not to move after all that food.”

“I am not watching one of those things you claim are Christmas films just because they take place at Christmas,” Aziraphale said firmly.

“Don’t worry, I watched Die Hard last night, as is customary… and I caught Home Alone on cable last week, so you’re in the clear.”[9]

“Yes, well, I do feel a bit badly about leaving **you** alone after dinner last night,” Aziraphale said almost shyly, “so perhaps we can find something we’d both enjoy… Besides, curling up on the couch might go well with the rest of my plans for the evening.”

“What plans are those?” Crowley asked. He did not expect his answer to come in the form of Aziraphale’s hand on his thigh, and a playful glance upwards.

Crowley ignored his suddenly pounding heart and followed Aziraphale’s gaze towards the ceiling, where a sprig of mistletoe had just miraculously manifested over their heads. He had just enough time to realize what was happening and tilt his head back out of the way before Aziraphale leaned in.

“An-angel? What are you doing?” he stammered. He didn’t pull away completely, but all the muscles in his leg had simultaneously seized up and he felt his mouth go dry.

“Oh, come now, Crowley,” Aziraphale pouted. “I may not have much experience, but I thought surely you’d know what flirtation looks like.”

Crowley swore in that instant that he was dreaming.

_It’s a hallucination,_ he thought. _Any minute now you’re going to wake up in bed._

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and sunk one sharp, fang-like tooth into his tongue to jolt himself awake, yet the warm pressure of Aziraphale’s hand on his thigh didn’t fade. On the contrary, it tightened briefly in a squeeze before the angel let out a nervous chuckle.

“I mean…” he said a little less confidently, “I was under the impression you were interested in being more than friends, or at least you were at one point… I thought you’d like to know I feel the same way.”

Crowley’s eyes few open wide at the words and his previous night’s musings to the stars came crashing back down on him.

_‘I wish I knew what he was thinking… that he felt the same way…’ Oh shit!_

“Aziraphale, you shouldn’t say that” he said, now pulling back in earnest as shock registered on Aziraphale’s face.

The angel looked as if he’d been slapped and Crowley cringed internally.

“Oh dear, I’ve rather made a mess of this haven’t I?” Aziraphale said softly. “Was it something I did? I truly thought… at least I suspected… Did I just completely misread the situation?”

Crowley thought his heart would break as tears started to well up in the angel’s eyes and he had to swallow down the urge to pull him into his arms and tell him he was saying everything he’d ever wanted to hear.

_It’s not real!_ A voice in his head screamed at him. _He’s under a spell and it’s your fault!_

“Angel, Angel, no! It’s nothing you’ve done, I swear! You just… you just don’t know what you’re saying.”

“What? Because you’re a demon?” Aziraphale said with a huff that managed to sound haughty even through his obvious distress. “I assure you, I’m well aware and I don’t care, Dear Boy. Not a whit! I love you Crowley.”

Crowley felt his superfluous heart momentarily stop and he let out a sound that was mostly consonants.

“Ngk! Ang-Aziraphale, I-I dunno what to say,” he murmured. “I... I think I need a drink. Jus’ gimme a minute to process this, will you, and then we can talk.”

Aziraphale nodded, and a glimmer of hope came back into his face as Crowley hastily extracted himself from the sofa and made his way to the kitchenette, closing the door behind him and all but collapsing against it.

He pulled his mobile from his pocket and quickly dialed Anathema.

Anathema was sitting in Newt’s mother’s living room when her phone lit up with the demon’s number and a glow that suggested he was distressed.[10]

“I’m sorry everyone, I think I need to take this,” she said with an apologetic look before stepping out to the next room.

“Crowley, what’s going on?” she asked as soon as she picked up the phone. “I’m trying to make a good impression on Newt’s family here, but your aura lit up my phone like a solar flare. The world isn’t ending again is it?”

“It’s Aziraphale,” the demon choked out. “I think I broke him!”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know, but you know the feelings we’ve talked about?”[11]

“Of course.”

“Well, he just said he feels the same way.”

“That’s great! That’s what you wanted.”

“Yeah, but he’s only saying it because I think I put some kind of spell on him.”

“Why would you think that?”

Crowley made a complicated noise on the other end of the phone then started talking very rapidly.

“Because he’s been acting weird since I got here and he said specifically ‘I feel the same way’ even though I never said anything about how I feel, and well… last night I sorta wished he’d say that…”

“You wished it?” Anathema repeated. “Did you use a miracle on him?” She didn’t fully understand how her friend’s demonic magic worked but this seemed like a big feat to pull off accidentally.[12]

“I didn’t mean to but there’s something off about him! Something’s clouding his aura but it doesn’t feel like my magic. At least not entirely… Not in a way I can easily undo. It feels similar but I dunno. You’re the witch, can’t you help me with something like this?”

“Not without knowing specifics or seeing him,” she answered. “I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Ha ha,” Crowley said humorlessly.

“Alright, bad word choice, but still, my talents are limited.”

“Fuck!” Crowley spat. “So, there’s nothing you can do?”

“No, but I might have an idea. You said the magic wasn’t exclusively yours. Maybe it’s a combination, maybe if you tell Aziraphale how you feel it’ll help clear this up. True love is a stereotypical curse breaker for a reason.”

Crowley scoffed. “Oh brilliant. Yes. Lemme jus’ go and do that. Waltz out to the being I’ve loved for millennia and just tell him I’m desperately in love with him so the spell he’s under will break and he’ll realize he’s been out of his bloody mind all day and can’t stand to think of me as more than a friend… and that it’s my fault that happened?! Great plan Book Girl!”

Anathema sighed. “That’s not my plan,” she snapped. “I don’t know why you’re so convinced he’s not telling the truth.”

“Because how could he be?” Crowley sighed, the heat leaving his tone as he slumped over against the countertop between two massive dessert trays. “He’s an angel. He’s everything that’s good, and bright, and lovable in the world and I’m… the opposite. How could he possibly feel that kind of love for me without being manipulated? I should consider myself lucky he even wants to be my friend and just forget about my feelings. They probably can’t match up to the real things anyway…”

“Crowley, I’m sorry,” Anathema said more softly. “I think—” but Crowley stopped listening when heard a crash and small, muffled sob coming from the kitchenette door.

_Oh shit._

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” he said.

Before Anathema could answer, the demon had hung up.

Crowley hurried back out into the back room, wine glasses in hand, to find Aziraphale curled tightly in his favorite armchair, sulking, his regular, impeccable posture abandoned, and his face hidden behind a book, though the pages were doing little to disguise his watery eyes.

“Aziraphale, Angel, what’s wrong?” Crowley said trying to act casually.

Aziraphale sniffed but didn’t answer.

“Angel, please talk to me,” Crowley all but begged. “Whatever you heard I can explain.”

“I’m too good for you?” Aziraphale asked pointedly, flipping a page in his book with a sharp, snapping sound. “Couldn’t possibly love you without manipulation?” Another page snapped. “And just what is it you did to me Crowley?”

The book slammed shut and Aziraphale turned his stormy gaze on the demon, tears doing nothing to mask the anger in them. “What is it that has my head feeling fearlessly drunk with my feelings for you? I can’t say I didn’t notice the feeling, but the emotions **are** real, I’ve clearly just been a fool to reveal them. Well done Crowley, very demonic, enchant me to reveal my deepest feelings then tell me it’s not real.”

“Aziraphale, no!” Crowley shouted in a panic. “I want to hear those words more than anything, I **do** love you, you were right about that… I just don’t believe you actually **want** to say those things!”

“Well, I do!” Aziraphale shouted, jumping up from his seat. “Or at least I did. I don’t know, but if you want proof, why don’t you open your present?”

Aziraphale stalked away to the other side of the room to lean against his desk and gestured vaguely at the table by the tree where Crowley’s present sat.

Crowley hesitated for a moment debating if he should follow him or do what he said. Experience had taught him that it was better to go along with an angry angel so he stayed silent and crouched down to pick up the gold-wrapped parcel.

It wasn’t particularly large, but it was fairly heavy for its size and its rectangular shape didn’t give much away. Crowley tilted it from side to side but detected only a subtle shifting of the contents.

With one last wary glance over his shoulder at Aziraphale, who was deliberately not looking in his direction, Crowley sighed and dug his fingernails into the immaculate wrapping, shredding it and tossing it to the floor.[13]

A plain brown box greeted him, and Crowley curiously lifted the lid, anxious to see what was inside. He never expected to see something familiar.

Nestled in a bundle of tissue paper was an ornately carved gold armband in the shape of a serpent with large oblong turquoise stones for eyes. He recognized it of course, but he hadn’t seen it since he’d been forced to make a fast retreat out of Egypt over 2,000 years ago.

“Angel,” Crowley gasped. “Is this...?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale answered brusquely. “It’s yours. The same one you were wearing that day in Alexandria when we met for drinks outside the library.”

“I remember,” Crowley said, with a small smile. “You said you liked it. Thought it suited me, but the eyes were all wrong. That was a good beer we had that day.”

“Yes, it rather was, Aziraphale said, just the tiniest hint of a smile seeping into his own voice. “And I stand by it. Your eyes are much more striking. Then again, Cleo didn’t know you were **actually** a snake, did she? You were just acting as an advisor at that point not impersonating an actual deity.”

“Technically I was a priest,” Crowley said with a huffed laugh. “She just trusted my advice. That’s why she gave this to me.” The demon swallowed a lump in his throat. Cleopatra had been one of the humans he’d liked best over the millennia. He’d hated how things had ended for her, but in the end, she had asked for his help and it was he who had gotten her the poison. His escape from the scene in serpent form had been both the reason he lost her gift and the cause for the rumors about her death by snake bite. “How did you ever--?”

“Well, it’s been quite a bit of work I assure you,” Aziraphale said in his usual fussy tone. “It’s not easy to infiltrate an Egyptian dig site, find a piece of valuable jewelry and smuggle it out without being detected or giving away too many secrets… even with significant connections with the British Museum.”

Crowley’s mind boggled as he stared down at the armband and gently ran his fingers over it. He had hated himself for losing the thing at the time, and knew he’d probably mentioned it, but he couldn’t believe Aziraphale had ever remembered.

“You—how-Ican’t b’lieve…” Crowley stammered.

“Well, you told me how much liked it at the time,” Aziraphale said softly. “And it’s one of the few items I’ve ever heard you bemoan losing. I thought if there was a chance of finding it, I needed to—”

But Aziraphale didn’t have time to finish his sentence, Crowley had crossed the room with inhuman speed and pulled the angel into a constrictor-strength hug, his lips frantically searching out the blond’s and crushing them against his.

Aziraphale let out a muffled gasp and his body tensed up for a beat before he melted into his friend’s embrace.

After several seconds Crowley pulled back, still grasping Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“It’s-it’s perfect, Angel. I never knew you paid attention… I love you too.”

Aziraphale let out a startled breath and seemed to stagger forward a bit, his eyes, which seemed to have lit up a brighter blue than usual, fluttered and he staggered forward a step into Crowley’s arms.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, a hint of panic edging into his voice before the angel blinked rapidly and his eyes focused once again on the demon’s. He looked dazed but he was still smiling.

“I say, Dear Boy, I feel as if I’ve been dunked in a bucket of cool water, that was quite refreshing,” he blurted.

The grin on Crowley’s face receded slightly. “Are you feeling more yourself then, Angel?” Crowley asked nervously. _If you are, will you not be okay with our feelings coming out?_ He didn’t have the courage to ask the second part aloud, but he suspected if the angel looked closely enough he’d read it in his eyes.

“Yes quite. Never better,” Aziraphale answered, beaming.

“Great then,” Crowley said, forcing his smile back. “Guess that’s over with, whatever it was. Probably owe Anathema a thank you, and we can get on with Christmas dinner and whatnot.”

Crowley released his grip on the angel and turned to step away, when he discovered Aziraphale’s hand as wrapped quite tightly in his jacket.

“Well, I should hope so, but first I suggest we straighten out all this kissing business.”

“What is there to straighten out?” Crowley asked, dread building in his stomach. “If you don’t—”

“Well for one, you hardly gave me time to prepare myself, and it is something I would rather like to savor,” Aziraphale said, not giving Crowley a chance to finish.

Crowley’s eyes grew wider and started to stumble for words as Aziraphale’s soft hand cupped his cheek and the angel tilted his face back down towards his own, pressing his lips to Crowley’s mouth in a kiss that was gentler but much more sensual than the one they had shared a moment ago.

Crowley felt like his insides were melting. As a demon he had lost the ability to sense others’ love around him, but in the moment Aziraphale’s lips connect with his, he was sure he could feel a wave of tenderness and love crash over him like the world’s warmest, softest tidal wave.

He let out a small sound[14] and leaned into the angel’s touch, wrapping his arms snuggly around Aziraphale’s waist and grasping at his lower back as the angel’s tongue gently parted his own lips and began exploring his mouth.

When Aziraphale felt he’d adequately proved his point he pulled back, a satisfied smile on his face and slight flush on his cheeks and Crowley wobbled, his serpentine legs feeling suddenly weaker than normal.

“Angel,” Crowley gasped, his eyes now blown full yellow and welling just slightly with happy tears. “I never-how come you never said anything?”

“I was afraid,” Aziraphale said, glancing down nervously. “I thought after all this time, and after everything I’d said to you… I wanted to say something, but I just didn’t know how.” Aziraphale was rambling now but Crowley didn’t stop him, he was too preoccupied with the way that lovely flush was continuing to creep up the angel’s face towards his curls.

“Then I drifted off last night and when I woke up, I don’t know what had come over me! I just felt like I had to tell you everything I was thinking or I’d discorporate.”

“So, I was right!” Crowley blurted, his face suddenly changing from overjoyed to somewhat unnerved. “Don’t get me wrong, Angel, I’m glad it all came out, although to be honest that gift might have tipped me off to your feelings anyway, but that’s why I was freaking out before! That funny feeling, I’m so sorry, Aziraphale, I think I might have done that!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dear Boy,” Aziraphale scoffed. “How could you **possibly** have done something like that without knowing it?”

Crowley let his arms drop from Aziraphale’s sides and hung his head to stare at the floor. “Cuziwishdferit,” he muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“B’cause I bloody wished for it!” the demon spat, his hopes of sparing his dignity, completely dashed. “I was looking out the window thinking about…you,” he gulped. “And I said, I wish I knew you felt the same way; I thought you might, but I didn’t know, and I thought if I knew for sure, I wouldn’t have to worry about being rejected.[15] I dunno how it worked but I think it might have had to do with the stars… It’s been a long time but maybe I tapped into some of my old power looking at them, because I can’t think of any other way…”

Crowley continued his rambling speculation, but Aziraphale had stopped listening, his eyes going wide in a dawning realization.

“Crowley!” he gasped his hands flying from the demon’s body to cover his own mouth in shock. “Crowley, Darling, it might not have been you!” he exclaimed. “I just remembered! Last night, at church… I was thinking about you too. My mind was wandering, and I wished, or I prayed possibly… that I could find a way to tell you how I feel… then I came home and fell asleep.”

Crowley stared at him wordlessly for a moment, the significance of what they had both just confessed sinking in on them.

“You don’ think?” Crowley asked, glancing upwards nervously.

Aziraphale shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past Her…”

Crowley glanced back at Aziraphale who had dropped his hands back down and was biting his lower lip nervously. “I suppose nothing’s impossible…”

“It’s ineffable,” Aziraphale whispered so softly he thought Crowley might not hear him. He knew he’d not succeed when the demon rolled his eyes.

“Best not to argue with ineffability,” he said with a snicker, and he pulled Aziraphale in for another passionate kiss. Above them from the rafters, another sprig of mistletoe miraculously appeared with a twinkle like a star in the night sky.

* * *

[1] It was early for him, but he knew the angel didn’t sleep and it wasn’t like he had slept particularly soundly himself with the butterfly ballet currently going on in his stomach.

[2] The most convoluted of these had involved impersonating an old miser’s dead business partner to set up the angel’s plan of conjuring visions of Christmas so the man would change his cruel ways. It had been a preposterously difficult way of saving one man’s soul and one child’s life, but Crowley couldn’t say he had objected to doing it. He got to be spooky in the process! Though he admitted the whole affair had gone far less poetically than the version Aziraphale had told his friend Charles when he needed an idea for a Christmas story.

[3] Physical contact between them had become a little more common since Armageddon’t but while he was getting used to an occasional hug or tap on the shoulder, this felt unexpectedly and oddly intimate.

[4] And threatened it into staying green

[5] Crowley had nearly had a panic attack shortly after the botched end of the world when Aziraphale had gone to light a real one and the angel had considerately switched despite significant initial confusion about how to turn the devices on.

[6] As far as Aziraphale was concerned, the more holidays he could celebrate the better.

[7] Though, Crowley noted with a chuckle, significantly **less** candy canes than he had initially hung up. Apparently, the angel’s sweet tooth had gotten the better of him again.

[8] It was a strange maneuver even by Crowley’s serpentine standards.

[9] While Aziraphale had conceded Home Alone was more of a Christmas movie than Die Hard several years ago, he still had objected to it strenuously when Nanny had made a tradition of watching it with Warlock every Christmas, something Crowley had insisted was the perfect compromise between good and evil holiday influences.

[10] She had become familiar enough with her friend’s strange and powerful aura that it now sometimes projected itself through the phone at her.

[11] Crowley had not offered this information willingly. But being friends with a wealthy witch who helps you track down impossible Christmas presents for your presumably unrequited angel love came with its downsides as well as its advantages.

[12] Then again, she thought, Adam swore he’d seen Crowley stop time, so she supposed anything was possible.

[13] It wasn’t like Aziraphale could possibly get madder at him than he already was.

[14] Which sounded embarrassingly like a purr, but which of course was not because demons (let alone snakes) do not do anything as mortifying as purring for angels.

[15] He didn’t say “again” but both of them knew it was implied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took them a while to get to it, but eventually Aziraphale opened his gift and he absolutely loved it! The goose also turned out perfectly despite being left in the oven over an hour too long because the cook was horribly distracted 😉

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments make my day, so please feel free to leave them here! If you feel inspired to make anything inspired by my fic please let me know or you on [Tumblr](https://supergeek21.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jessiemarie921/), or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/JessieMarie921)! I'd love to hear from you.


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